A Thousand English Summers
by bobbygirlamnot
Summary: Cultures and pride collide in this tale of new beginnings; showing that family and friendship are the strongest bonds one can make.
1. Chapter 1

**A Thousand English Summers.**

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 **CHAPTER 1**

She looked around her surroundings, as she made her way down the short flight of steps from the Downton train station. There were coaches following each other both in and out of the drive way and the ones that arrived with passengers inside, left without. Some were stopped half way, to allow their new passengers to get on and transport them to their respective destinations. Dignified and orderly. Back at home it was a common sight at the 'Privileged entrance'' for the gentry of the land, yet if you went through the 'common entrance', you would be greeted with loud shouts and hollering at every turn; rickshaw drivers spitting at each other to move away, men bargaining with carriage drivers for the next ride and the workers carrying heavy loads of items and tossing them into huge lorries. She had come out through both of those entrances. The second serving as a good distraction from her otherwise orderly life. If she traveled with her grandfather, then she would come through the first. It wouldn't do for a lady on her stature to do otherwise. Not that she was a lady. Not in the real sense.

She stood there pondering her options. She could either take a carriage all the way or she could walk. Tired as she was, the chance to explore the new land and take in all the splendor Downton had to offer was too tempting to resist. So walk it was. She felt through her pockets looking for the letter Mr. Murray had sent her. She couldn't quite remember if it was the right or the left- ah yes, it _was_ the left pocket. She had read it almost a hundred times that the lines where she had folded the letter were stating to tear.

"… _the dowager will have a carriage sent for you, and you will be transported directly to Downton Abbey. I myself will be present when you meet the rest of the Earls family…_ "

Except, there was no carriage waiting for her. The station master was a kind man and offered to send word to the dower house immediately. But she declined the offer and said she would be happy to go herself. She didn't want to bother the man again, so she thought she'll ask for direction on the way. After all, Lord Grantham was the Earl of Downton and surely everyone knew where he lived. "It's getting there that'll be the trick" she muttered to herself. She lifted up her suitcase and went on.

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 **AN** \- _All will be revealed in time. Reviews are much appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

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The family would be away today. They'd be arriving by train the following afternoon and for that, Mrs. Hughes was very grateful. There was just so much to do these days and hardly any time to finish it all. She filed away the bills she had received from the morning deliveries and was just taking out her accounts book when Mr. Carson entered her sitting room.

"Well, they're off Mrs. Hughes." He said and took a seat at his usual spot by the door.

"I suppose the rest could relax just a little bit now, Mr. Carson?- " began Mrs. Hughes but was cut off by the butler.

"Absolutely NOT. It is out of the question."

"After they've finished all their duties, that is." She finished with a slight smile.

"We'll… see when it comes to that." He replied, feeling slightly ashamed for snapping. Mrs. Hughes hid her smile by returning back to her book.

"The dowager of course saw no reason to make the visit. What did she say again, when his lordship showed her the invitation?"

" _I don't need another party to remind me how old I'm getting."_ Chuckled Mr. Carson. "But she _was_ his Godmother and it wouldn't do for her to decline the invitation."

"Oh, of course not Mr. Carson." Said Mrs. Hughes and they both sat there in companionable silence for a while. Mrs. Hughes adding up the accounts and Mr. Carson with his eyes closed and fingers intertwined. A rare moment for them both, given the hustle and bustle that goes on downstairs.

"I suppose we are all getting on." Said Mr. Carson getting up from his seat.

"None of that now, Mr. Carson. Now I plan on giving the west wing a thorough cleaning today and wondered if some of the hall boys could help as well."

"Henry and Lloyd could be spared this morning. Is everything ready for the girls' arrival? Did Anna have her new chambers made ready?"

"Yes, we both went over it a few days ago. I'll get one of the maids to air it once more before she arrives. That's two days away after all."

"Yes. Of course it is. God help us when she _does_ arrive. A colonial girl, here at Downton!" Muttered Mr. Carson.

"I'm sure she's afraid of us, just as _some_ of us are of her." Was Mrs. Hughes's pointed reply.

"Hump." Was all the butler had to offer on that matter.

"Shall I ask Daisy to bring you a pot of tea?" Asked Mr. Carson before leaving the room.

"That will be nice Mr. Carson, thank you." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She had been walking around town for over an hour now. She was fascinated by the people, the shops, buildings and everything around her. Despite the sun shining bright up ahead in the afternoon sky she didn't feel the harsh heat upon her brow. No drops of sweat coated her upper lip and forehead. The white handkerchief she usually put to good use, lay inside her pocket untouched. She found the change quite pleasant.

The ladies wore pretty gowns with trimmed lace and ribbons, with tasteful hats on their heads. If you looked close enough you could make out the delicate curl and twists their hair was style in. The gentlemen look smart in their crisp suites and polished shoes, some with cane in hand. Their appearance was familiar and reminded her of home. While the common people back at home wore more simple forms of English attire and some of the lower ranking men and women could be seen in the traditional osariya and sarong, the high society ladies and their husbands always made sure they stayed in par with the latest fashions from London.

She passed many a shop and differently shaped houses as she left the Downton train station. She even passed a church not long ago and noticed the town seemed to have multiple pubs named 'Grantham Arms'. They all had the same wooden name board and glass windows in the front.

"Wait. That can't be right" muttered Diana to herself and turned around in a circle. "You, Diana are A _total_ idiot." She said to herself. She'd been traveling down the same set of roads, taking the same left turn at the end and was walking in the _same_ square for the past quarter of an hour. She was so engrossed and overwhelmed with her surrounding that she hadn't noticed. She stopped dead in her tracks and put her suitcase on the gravel road. Hands on her hips, she looked on ahead and noticed a tea shop further down the road.

"Perhaps a nice cup of hot tea will calm me down. Then I can think of what do next" She said to herself and shaking her head at her carelessness resumed walking, suitcase in hand.

Miss Kents tea shop was small in size. A rather narrow building with a wide glass window in the front and a bell that tinkled every time the door opened. It was cosy looking on the inside and save for a few tables the establishment was otherwise empty. Diana chose to sit at a table in the middle of the tea shop. Looking around she took off her gloves and noticed a smiling plump lady coming towards her.

"Good evening madam, I hope you made yourself comfortable. Here is the menu and let me know what you would like to order" she said. Either Diana imagined it, or the lady's smile somewhat lessened when she came closer. Her eyes wondered over her and seemed to take in every detail of her appearance.

"Oh, just a cup of tea would be nice. Two lumps of sugar would do the trick" replied Diana.

"Of course" She said curtly and went away.

Diana knew this would happen sooner or later. The reason it _didn't_ happen until now was that everyone who passed her in the village glanced at her with a short smile, never really taking in her appearance. Her long brown coat, gloves and hat masked what she really looked like. Underneath she wore a blue traditional osariya that her _aaya_ insisted she wore and her long dark hair was tied up in a simple knot at the base of her neck. But what really stood out was her less than fair skin. She had a tanned complexion that contrasted with the strikingly pale faces around her, giving her a slightly foreign look. The shop keepers dwindling smile and curt manner was no secret to her. The likes of her where welcome; the way a child welcomes the prospect of drinking cod liver oil when punished.

She sighed and looked through her left pocket. She took out the letter and sat there staring at it. Why hadn't there been anyone to take her from the station? Had they forgotten? Had she mixed up the arrival date? _Or maybe they didn't want her._ She thought. That was just silly. Mr. Murray had spoken to her at great length and all the documents had been handled a month ago. The ship she had arrived to England and the accommodation she received at London where all arranged by Mr Murray. I'm sure there's a simple explanation for all this. She said to herself.

Her tea arrived a while later, this time served by a young girl in a pink dress and white apron. She lingered long enough to enjoy her cup of tea and asked the amount she was due. While paying her bill she had half the mind to ask the lady of the shop for directions to the Abbey but thought the better of it. There'll be whispers of her arrival soon enough and Diana saw no need in letting slip where she was heading.

It was past five in the evening when she found herself walking down the main road. She made sure she was more alert of her surrounding this time around. Little girls played hop scotch on the side of the road and the boys chased one another around a tree. She passed a chemists shop and a little grocers shop and caught sit of a bakery as well. All the while she was wandering what she should take along with her before she went to the Abbey. Wouldn't do to go empty handed. The large chocolate fudge cake on display gave her an idea.

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She emerged from the bakery with a brown parcel tucked under her arm and a renewed spring in her step. Unfortunately, she didn't pause to notice the dark clouds fast approaching in the evening sky.

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 _Note-_

 _Osariya - the traditional dress of the Kandyan Sinhalese woman_

 _Aaya - Caretaker_

 **AN - A big thank you out to all the guest reviewers I can't thank individually!**


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